


The song of the stars

by well_of_sapphire_fears



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, How Do I Tag, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Parallels, Reincarnation, Stars, Symbolism, i have no idea how to tag this, my last one i promise, no really, planets as characters, thank you woojin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-02-20 05:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22943929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/well_of_sapphire_fears/pseuds/well_of_sapphire_fears
Summary: "Everyone in the group is fascinated with space so we really liked the idea of making a song about shooting stars,” Chan says in an interview once. He’s talking about TMT, but he’s hiding a spoiler there, because they already know their next single will be Astronaut. And they all know it, but Woojin still flinches slightly, because Chan's white locks look like they're glowing in the ceiling lights, his voice sounds like a starsong and his eyes seem to sparkle like stardust and broken promises and Woojin can't help but think 'did you really forget about me?'Did you know? That the Moon was created so that the Sun wouldn't get lonely.
Relationships: Bang Chan & Kim Woojin, Bang Chan/Kim Woojin
Comments: 11
Kudos: 93





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To Kim Woojin, whom I have never met but who still, in a way, saved me.
> 
> I just wanted to say thank you.

It all starts with a whisper.

"The Earth is dying," the Moon mutters to himself, and the stars burn brightly, echoing the statement across the Universe, repeating it after one another until the message reaches the edges and comes back.

The Sun turns to look at the Moon and almost asks _why_. Because the Moon knows the Earth better than anyone and he knows she isn’t dying. She is strong and resilient, and she’s survived worse things than what the creatures currently living on her are causing. That the only result of their actions will be their own demise.

The Sun almost does ask, but doesn’t because it can see the way the Moon is looking at those small, mortal creatures, the longing and yearning burning bright inside him as he watches their short lives pass by.

_Why do you love them so?_ it just thinks but means _is my love not enough for you?_

The Sun stays quiet. The whisper travels across the Universe and the other planets turn their not-eyes on them in worry about their sister.

* * *

Woojin is the last person Chan approaches about joining his new group for debut. And maybe it should bother him when Chan says _I really need you there_ when he’s obviously taken his time asking him. By then, it's been weeks since Woojin first heard the rumour the famous senior trainee got the permission to build his own team to try to debut if they won the showcase. Weeks of doubt and insecurity and of _maybe I was wrong after all._

This is Chan though. Woojin can't ever be mad at him.

Chan catches him right before leaving the company. It’s 11pm and Woojin’s just about to walk out of the building into the crisp night air when he feels a hand on his arm, a warm grip so unfamiliar yet belonging to a presence he knows too well.

When he turns, Woojin is met with a Chan on a mission. His dyed grey hair is messy and darker than usual with grease and his clothes are rumpled, but his expression is hard, determined. This is Chris' face, the serious expression of an infamous genious trainee everyone's a bit afraid of.

It's a face Woojin had first seen not long after getting into the company. He had just started to settle in, trying to get into the already too familiar but at the same time slightly different regimen of an entertainment company when they met for the first time. It was midday then, and they happened to have a dance class together.

The group of trainees had been stretching peacefully when their teacher asked Woojin to sing. He wasn't surprised by that - he was the new guy after all. Instructors always wanted to feel them out. So, he ignored the stares from around the room, the burning gazes of boys he had yet to learn the names of and sang.

Woojin's never been that great of a dancer, his body lacking grace and flourish, but singing. This he could do. He still believes that this is _it_ for him - nothing in this life has ever came close to making him feel the way singing does, when he opens his mouth and his voice rings loud and clear through the room. When he can show what he feels with just a higher or a lower note, the frequencies of happiness or despair, when he can touch others in a way he will never be able to with mere human words. This is why he practiced it so much, why he spent hours upon hours polishing note after note until perfection.

And because of that, he had not been afraid of singing to a room full of desperate boys with dreams bigger than them. And he hadn't been scared to look around the room as he did it, observing their faces and gauging their reactions. Looking for _something_.

The only one who held his gaze for longer than a second was a young man, leaning against the wall to his right. He wore black shorts and a dark tank top that contrasted with his light skin and bleached hair. His eyes were dark, the gaze contemplative but there was a curious flicker of light in there as well.

He reminded Woojin of a night sky, with its darkness and the silvery light of the stars and something more. Warmth, maybe.

Oh, Woojin had realised. The boy simply felt a bit like home.

_Oh._

Woojin smiled at him when he finished and went to sit back down, a slight, barely there upturn of his lips. Somehow the boy noticed, and he nodded back at Woojin, an amused glint in his dark eyes even though his expression stayed the same blank mask.

After the practice he came up to Woojin and introduced himself as Chris. 

It's only been a few months since then, not even a full year, but... But.

_I know him_ , Woojin thinks now and smiles slightly when he sees the same familiar light in the other's irises. _It doesn't matter how long it's been. I know him._

And Woojin likes to think he is one of the few chosen ones that know not only Chris, but Chan as well, know the soft smiling silver haired boy that breathes music and loves it wholeheartedly. It's a privilege he's grateful for, even if he doesn't say so, because the other still doesn't realise that the chasm between the two was his own creation. The whole closed off scary persona of Chris is more of a defensive mechanism than anything else, a way to protect himself from disappointments of trainee life and Woojin's heart clenches at how much Chan must have withstood in his teenage years. Chris is a testament of strength.

It won’t be long though, Woojin believes. He’ll accept himself and he’ll learn how to be less angry at himself, at others, at the Universe. Chan will find himself soon.

"Will you join me?" Chan asks now, his edges sharp but his voice as soft as ever.

It sounds like an echo, a mirror to a similar question asked in a different time and a different place. It's achingly familiar, for a reason Woojin can't pinpoint right now, too blinded by the fire in Chan's irises.

(“Why are you leaving?” One of Woojin's friends had asked when he found him packing his stuff in the SM locker room. “Haven’t you heard? They're going to debut you, finally. Why are you quitting right before you can get what you've been waiting for all this time?”

Woojin stopped for a moment at those words, before continuing putting his things into his bag. He had heard. He knew about the recent talks, the idea of adding new members in a huge project next year. But...

But.

"NCT?" And it was still weird, calling the boys he trained with by their group name. It made them feel like the carefree trainees he knew had been replaced by different people, by the cookie cutter versions of themselves Woojin could no longer recognize. He wondered if debut does that to everyone, if he’d have to change as well.

It didn’t matter anyways. He was probably just being bitter.

"They don't have what I'm looking for," he simply answered.

“What you're- god dammit, Woojin-ah, what are you looking for?” The other had asked, half angry and half resigned, like he'd given up on reasoning with him. Like he thought Woojin had no idea what he was doing with his life, like he was throwing away his last chance to become an idol.

And maybe Woojin was. But at the same time, he knew with absolute certainty that staying here wasn't the solution.

Because the thing was - Woojin knew what he wanted. But trying to put the feelings swirling in his heart into words would take incredible effort he didn’t have the strength for yet, and he was pretty sure the other trainee wouldn’t understand anyways. Maybe no human would, ever.

But Woojin _knew_ and he couldn’t forget about it. This was why he packed his bags in silence and left SM for good not long later with a JYPE business card in the back pocket of his jeans.

He had an audition to pass.)

So. Maybe Woojin should be angry at Chan. Maybe he should say that he'll think about it and actually try to analyse if taking part in a survival show (Woojin wasn’t stupid – he’d been a trainee long enough to learn the workings of a huge company and to know which talks to listen in on) would even be worth it.

But Woojin is far too gone, because he already knows that Chan’s silver hair glints in the moonlight and that his laugh seems to sparkle underneath the stars. That his singing has that frantic, beautiful undertone of desperation in it, of a dream fuelled by pure stubbornness. Woojin has never learnt to say no when someone looks at him with these eyes.

He swallows.

Up, up, way above their heads, the stars twinkle in _not the time yet_ but the two are too focused on each other to care about anything else, especially something as distant as the stars’ song. Yet Woojin pauses, swallows the words that threaten to erupt from his lips and just takes a deep breath. Chan’s still waiting.

Maybe… Maybe this is what Woojin has been searching for his whole life.

He nods.

“I knew you’d say yes,” Chan smiles widely, in that way that shows his dimple and makes his eyes scrunch up. “Which is why the first meeting of our soon-to-debut team begins in five minutes! Come on, we don’t have much time to walk there.” Woojin laughs at that and lets himself be dragged behind the other boy through the labyrinth that is their company.

(If Chan thinks that his laugh sounds way too warm and bright for the dark JYPE hallway, he just blames it on his own exhaustion.)

They walk into one of the rooms on the 3rd floor and the other seven are already there. Woojin can see Jeongin, the young curious boy from Busan, Hyunjin the talented dancer known for his beautiful face and Seungmin with his straight back and good manners sitting together on the right side of the room and playing a game of sorts. Opposite them sits Jisung, Chan's passionate and lyrical dongsaeng who’s talking with Minho, the new trainee with a smile but features so sharp they could cut. Next to them is Changbin with his sharp eyes and scary atmosphere and Felix, the playful deep voiced teenager from Australia. 

Woojin can't help the small but real smile that shows up on his face. They're all here. 

The other boys all look up when Chan walks in with Woojin in tow and he just clears his throat before saying “Welcome to the new debut team, everyone. It’s not confirmed yet, but we got the permission to try. This is more than ever before and I believe if we work hard and work together, we can make it.”

And it may not be the beginning. But it is a beginning, still.

* * *

The Sun is very old. It exists from the beginnings of time and it watches over a small part of the Universe, overlooking the birth of planets and stars. It teaches them everything, listens to their ramblings, observes the way they grow and mature in their own ways as it provides them with light to guide them on their path. And it’s glad seeing them find their happiness, the way the stars twinkle in laughter and the planets dance around each other playfully as they get further and further away from it.

The Sun is… happy.

But the Sun wants something for itself as well. It’ll only learn the name for the object of its’ yearning later, but what it wants is a _family_. A family that will stay with it. That will laugh, sing and dance to the songs the faraway stars with it, ignoring the way its' too big not-body lacks the grace of the smaller children of the Universe.

But the Sun is patient and eternal, so it waits. And its' family does come, not all at once but in the end, the eight planets, all different from each other choose to stay with it.

The first one is a small curious thing. Mercury. He stays the closest to the Sun, always asking questions and wanting to learn everything. He’s shy and he's kind and he's innocent with the way he looks at the Universe with his not-eyes filled with wonder and his not-smile bright. The Sun doesn't count the time, doesn't have the need for age but still, somehow, he feels the youngest of them all.

The second is beautiful, in the blues and greys of his eternal body, but also in more ways as well. He twirls to the songs of the stars and dances with them, burning in a passion so bright it's almost blinding, pure movement locked in a shell of rock. When he hears his name for the first time, Venus, his laugh twinkles and starlight dances around him. He's a planet of feelings, ones so strong they tend to consume him, but the Sun cannot imagine him being any other way.

The third one is… different. She’s a stray, she says once and the others laugh because they never understand what she means, but they let her be the way she wants to be. They don't really feel the way other creatures seem to, because they are the Universe and they are _more_ , but they know what the feelings inside them mean. They'd accept her no matter what.

She’s also the one who gives the other’s names. I’m Earth, she says, one moment out of many and the Sun burns brighter and warmer, because this is the first time it sees a happy not-smile show up on her not-face.

The others accept the unusual terms with joy and repeat them back at her in gratitude. Afterwards, they keep using them because while they don’t have a language in the way other beings seem to define it, they know how to communicate. They don't need names but they can have them, can wear them with pride. And Earth is family, after all, even if the Sun has yet to learn of this term. 

After her, there’s the fourth. Mars, Earth calls him. Despite his tiny size, his red colour and the way he looks angry half the time makes stars scared of him in the beginning. Of his hard appearance, of the sharp edges of the rocks he's made of. Thankfully, they learn quickly just how different he is, how soft and thoughtful and kind he can be. And the Sun watches with a warm not-smile how the stars indulge him and his jokes and his playfulness and how their little family helps him be himself freely.

Then, Jupiter and Saturn. The two are gas, wishes, and melodies, held together by the power of will, similar but so different at the same time.

Jupiter is movement and he’s generosity and he’s selflessness. Bright in ways even Mercury isn’t, he likes playing with the Sun's rays and befriending the stars. He's the one the stardust loves the most, because he lets it rest on his not-face when it's tired of travelling the Universe.

In turn, Saturn is discipline and order, but he’s also thoughtfulness and kind companionship and quiet strength. He's the most playful one of them, pulling pranks left and right and maybe it should be a harsh contrast, but it is not. He likes talking with the Sun and he understands more than the others, maybe even more than the Sun itself, because it has always been satisfied with knowing that the Universe exists.

The Sun never needed more.

Then, the last two. They are ice and they are dreams in crystalized form, pure power frozen in time. 

Uranus likes individuality, likes not giving away his personality to strangers. He encases himself in a shell of ice that reflects and breaks up the light into small particles, but their family still knows. They know about how he dances with the atoms, know how his not-giggle lights up the darkness. And they keep those things like the secrets they are, because Uranus had trusted them with them.

The last one, Neptune, is contrast. He is ice and fire, noise and quiet, fear and bravery, special in all the ways he shouldn't be. He burns where he's supposedly frozen and he's gentle where he should be hard as ice. The Sun worries about him the most because planets like him feel too much and while Uranus had built layers of protection and Venus has the resilience of rocks on his side, Neptune has none of it, but then he smiles at it, full of strength and reassurance and the Sun forgets about its' doubts.

He's a child of the Universe. He will be fine.

And together, 8 mismatched planets and too big of a star, they exist.

Then, something changes.

_The Moon._

* * *

They're given another chance.

After having been broken apart, after being left as seven instead of nine with a gaping hole in their middle, they've been given another chance.

And Woojin has seen how dangerous hope can be, especially in an environment like this, but he cannot bring himself to say anything to Jeongin when he smiles that bright, wide, innocent smile of his he lost weeks before, after the first elimination.

Hope, as deadly as it can be, is still better than despair, which is a feeling Woojin knows too well by now.

The night after Minho's departure from the dorms, after the dongsaengs had cried themselves to sleep, Woojin came to the kitchen for a glass of water only to find Chan sitting alone by the window in the living room. He had looked so much smaller than usual, curled up and leaning on the glass, his silver hair pale in the moonlight.

Woojin had sat beside him and drank his drink in small sips, looking out onto the dark street below them with him. He hadn’t thought they’d talk, just that he’d give their leader silent support with his presence, but when he had almost emptied the glass, the other broke the silence.

"PD-nim doesn't like even numbers." Chan had whispered but it sounded so loud in the quiet of their sleeping dorm. He was still sitting half turned away from Woojin, his eyes trained on something only he could see in the night sky.

Only a meter of space was between them, but somehow it felt like Chan was lightyears away, an otherworldly creature of light and stardust perched upon their windowsill. Woojin’s throat felt dry even though he had just drank a full glass of water.

"What?" Woojin had asked. Still, it was soft and tired, because he understood. He just didn't want to acknowledge it.

"He doesn't like even numbers. He thinks they’re bad luck, especially after what happened with DAY6 hyungs," Chan said. What he meant was: _there will be another elimination_. What Woojin understood was also - _it might be you_.

Because Woojin and Chan had been in the entertainment industry long enough to know the stakes and the chances. They both knew 3RACHA was safe (or as safe as anyone could be in their situation), that the management liked Hyunjin’s face a lot and that Seungmin would work himself to the bone before he let himself make a mistake bad enough to cause him to be eliminated. It left three options really. It could be Jeongin with his lack of confidence and his young age, whom they could deem ‘not ready yet’. It could be Felix with his stumbling Korean and a too unique voice, because special is good but it’s also inconvenient a lot of the time, especially when you’re trying to cater to a majority like you do in pop music.

Or it could be Woojin.

Woojin, because he only had his voice. Him and Jeongin obviously stood out because of their dancing, and not in a good way, and Woojin didn’t have innocence, shyness or youth to use as an excuse. He was simply mediocre because he was mediocre, nothing more and nothing less. He could fix it with time, but time was the one thing they didn’t have much of. And he knew better than to expect the management to count him as a visual.

Woojin had reached out his hand to touch Chan but hesitated centimetres from the other’s knee. Why was Chan telling him that now? Was this his way of a goodbye? Of saying farewell, because he was the one he’d be most alright with losing?

He let his hand fall back down onto the windowsill. His fingers felt cold.

_Am I not good enough again?_

And Woojin understood, which was probably the worst thing, that resigned painful acceptance. Jeongin’s dreams would be crushed. Felix would feel like his home had been taken away again. But Woojin knew this, knew rejection and failure. He had already felt them after all, had learnt the names for the bitter aftertaste on your tongue and the shattered glass in your lungs.

He’d be fine. He will be fine.

So Woojin had just stood up and said "Stray Kids is you. As long as you stay strong, as long as you remember," Woojin almost smiled at the cosmic joke of the situation. Was it a mistake that he agreed to join Chan? _Why are you here, when you don’t belong?_ "Nothing else matters. Just don't forget about me when you're famous,” he chuckled humourlessly at the end and left, unaware of the pained gaze that followed his retreating back and a mouth open to utter an apology or maybe something else, words he wanted to hear but that never got spoken.

They never mentioned that conversation again. In the end, that goodbye didn’t serve as one, because it was Felix and not Woojin who got eliminated. And it was worse, to watch the others hearts get broken one by one as Woojin just stood on the side-lines, unable to help.

Helplessness and despair are the worst feelings you can experience.

But now. Now, they have another chance.

It’s the last one they’re going to get and they all know that. It’s clear from Seungmin’s pursed lips, from how Hyunjin and Jisung put their issues aside for a moment, from Chan’s hard as a stone expression. The light in their leader's eyes has turned into a blade piercing and sharp, his gentleness buried somewhere very very deep for now. They’re as focused and determined as they can be.

The only number that exists for them now is a 9.

It’s not a question of can they do this anymore. No, it’s that they _have to_ do this and Woojin believes that they will. He believes in them.

It’s still hard, but that’s how human life simply is, Woojin guesses.

During some nights when their practice lasts till 5am and all they can do afterwards is lay on the floor panting, Woojin thinks he can hear the stars sing. It may just be a trick of his exhausted mind, tired from hearing the same beats over and over for hours, because there’s no way anything from outside would break through their soundproof walls, but still.

_How could a measly mortal creature,_ they seem to sing _, break what is ours._

And Woojin thinks he knows what they mean, can still see the echoes of the eliminations, the fear in the others’ eyes that he’s afraid will never really leave, even if they succeed. _When_ they succeed. The wounds will scab over, but the scars will always remain.

But. This is not the end, Woojin thinks. He reckons that if he were to turn into a star right now, he'd become bigger and brighter than any other just so that his voice could overpower them all.

It ain't over, he'd sing then, in a tribute to the dreams of 8 bright boys fighting against the world. 

"Hyung?" A voice interrupts his thoughts. Minho is standing above him, his dropping wet bangs the only thing betraying how long they've been practicing for. In front of the cameras he's still hesitant, too insecure and guarded to show his real self but here, in a practice room at 4 am, he's in his truest form, with a love for dance so sharp it could cut. "We want to run through Hellevator again. The bridge was a bit off, I think."

Woojin just grasps the younger’s smaller hand tightly as he helps him up.

_It ain’t over._

* * *

It's one small change. 

Or maybe a big one. Maybe it changes everything. The Sun doesn't know and it's hard to tell with the Universe, because It has Its secrets and It doesn't like sharing them.

But this change is too noticeable to hide. It comes in a shape of dreams, made of rock and pure willpower with an undercurrent of desperation.

And it goes like this.

“You’re still lonely,” Earth tells the Sun one moment out of many. The Sun nods and watches her quietly. It doesn't understand the word or what it means because the Universe simply _is_ , no adjectives attached and the Sun never thought it could be different, but it listens.

Earth is the quietest one of them, and also the only one who keeps looking out into the Universe, as if searching for something. Whenever the Sun catches her like that, it almost asks what she is looking for, but never does, because it’s afraid of the answer.

“If I help you with that, would you dim your light a bit? Not too much, but... A bit. Just enough.”

The Sun looks at her for a long moment before it agrees. It wonders how they never realised that no matter the request, the Sun will never tell one of its' little family no. It’s unable to. If she asked without offering anything back, it would still say yes.

But that’s maybe why she does give him something – because she knows.

“Why?” it still asks, because the Sun is old and has seen many things, but Earth still surprises it every time.

“I wish for life,” Earth simply says.

And the Sun still doesn’t understand, but it soon doesn’t matter, because Earth introduces her child, the Moon, to it.

He is small, the smallest out of their family but somehow, when the Sun looks at him it can't help feeling smaller and younger than it is. Maybe it's just because of the look in his not-eyes, pure determination and something _more_ , something that the Sun has never seen before. Maybe it’s because since he isn't a star, he shouldn't shine like one, but there's still a glow to him, a pure white light seeming to envelop his being itself.

"Will you stay and make me not lonely?" The Sun asks, not understanding what it's saying but understanding too well at the same time.

And the Moon, who is still too young to know himself, know what agreeing to stay would mean, says yes.

The Sun thinks that's what not-lonely must mean - being with the Moon.

* * *

The debut leaves them frazzled and elated, but exhausted beyond anything. The only reason they’re still standing is because they’re still riding high on the fact they managed to get here, on stage in the spotlight. The time they get to spend with their fans gives them energy as well and Woojin is half dumbfounded by the fact there’s so much interest from the public and half sorry he cannot give them his all, but it’s so hard to do when his body is almost failing him, the black spots at the edge of his vision and the ringing in his ears a constant nowadays.

Even after the promotions end, it’s not much easier. They’re bone tired yet they’re expected to start practicing for their first comeback without any break, their schedule filled with personal and group lessons. Chan - who is Chan now, truly, because there had been an idea of him going as Chris after debut but it was him who rejected it and Woojin is _proud_ \- is angry, his brow furrowed in a way that makes this clear to someone who knows him half as well as Woojin does, but the management doesn’t care about a rookie group’s opinion. Even if they are a self-produced one.

It feels a lot like they’re small unimportant grains of sand in a sandbox, while a child plays with them, molding and reshaping them to its liking. A lot like fighting something big and eternal and ungraspable, like floating in an abyss and having no one but each other to depend on, like-

He banishes the thoughts from his mind. He doesn’t have the _time_ for them.

Woojin stumbles a lot during dance practice. He can feel Chan and even Minho’s confused and tense gazes on his back every time it happens, because they know he’s a better dancer than that, know how much better he’s gotten since the survival show, and Woojin hates making them worried. Still, he watches the younger boys closely and every time he sees Jeongin hitting the wrong beat, Felix slipping or Jisung forgetting the moves out of the corner of his eye, he lets himself fall, pretending he tripped.

He’ll survive any scolding as long as the others get at least a few minutes of rest during it. _They’re mine, mine, mine,_ he just chants in his head when the yelling gets too harsh. _You will not hurt my family._

Still, it is not enough. It all comes to a head after a harsh all-night practice, when Hyunjin and Jeongin have to go to school right after and Jeongin almost blacks out on the way to the bus stop. Chan puts his foot down and the managers agree that having a member faint during class would be a bad rep, so they finally _finally_ get a free day to rest.

24 hours. Less by the time they get the permission, but it’s still a huge relief to go back to the dorms and know they don’t have anywhere to be for a whole day, that all their lessons have been cancelled.

As soon as they arrive Chan starts cooking, because of course he does – Chan is a mother hen by nature. (He’s also more than that, because he is silver and strength and light, but Woojin chases the thought away as soon as it comes to him. This is not the time.) Woojin kind of wants to tell him to just rest because half of the kids are already asleep by then but he knows it’s going to help Chan feel more at ease if he knows there’ll be food for whenever they fill hungry, so he lets him be.

Instead, he closes the blinds, shrouding their living room in a shadow and puts on a random movie before leaving to change into more comfortable clothes. When he comes back, he finds Jisung and Hyunjin sitting together on the couch. The latter seems completely engrossed in the story, while the other boy is already falling asleep. It’s clear to Woojin Jisung would rather just rest in his bed, but he’s still here. Spending time with Hyunjin.

It’s leagues from the way they used to behave before and Woojin is proud of them. He had always known they’d eventually get along, but it’s nice to see it with his own two eyes. And he’s glad, because it means that some of the tension in Chan’s shoulders will ease, at least a bit. That maybe Jeongin, Felix and Minho will finally relax enough to open up to them more.

It’s a work in progress, still, because they are the ones governed by feelings the most out of their group, yet something in Woojin sings _family, anytime, anywhere_ and he knows that they’ll be okay.

The two still fall asleep an hour into the movie and Woojin begrudgingly gets up to cover them with a blanket before settling back on the couch.

But going back to Jeongin – the boy himself comes into the room some time later and immediately freezes in place. He’s in his pyjamas and his hair is a messy black nest on his head and Woojin is hit by how unbelievably _young_ he looks. Still, he seems completely awake as he stares at the two 00liners from the entrance with his mouth open in shock. They haven’t been very vocal about the recent change in their relationship, so it’s probably the first time Jeongin sees them so comfortable with each other.

Woojin wants to giggle. Or maybe coo a bit. He doesn’t, because an embarrassed Jeongin is a whiny Jeongin and he really doesn’t want to wake Jisung or Hyunjin, but it’s a close call. Instead, he just asks quietly “Can’t sleep?”

After Jeongin nods, he beckons him over and lets the maknae lay his head in his lap before starting to stroke his hair soothingly, lulling his ever-present innocence youth _kindness_ to sleep. When Chan comes into the room hours later, the movie credits are rolling across the screen and Woojin is still petting him, even though he’s barely awake himself. Chan turns the tv and the lights off, but Woojin can still see his silhouette settle into the armchair.

At Woojin’s raised brow – Chan has a perfectly good bed to sleep in and he’s not trapped like Woojin so he could just go to his room – all he says is “seeing them will make me sleep better”. Woojin feels the familiar strands under his hand and doesn’t question him more. He thinks he understands.

“I really doubted sometimes they’d get along. Guess you were right,” Chan says quietly. Woojin follows his gaze to the two 00liners on the other side of the couch. Sometime during the movie, they must’ve shifted and now Jisung’s head rests in the crook of Hyunjin’s neck and the slightly older boy has an arm swung protectively around his waist.

Woojin smiles. They fit, even though Hyunjin is rocks smoothened by harsh winds and Jisung is fragile ice hidden behind fiery words. They fit.

“They had to fight a bit first before getting along. You have to last through the dark night to watch the sunrise.” And because Woojin is sentimental or maybe he just has a thing for thinking a lot about the past, he quotes the words Chan himself had told him many months before. “Darkness must exist so that the light could exist as well, Channie.”

Chan chuckles. Woojin can’t see well in the dark room, but the other’s eyes seem to gleam in a feeling he cannot recognize. “What?”

“Nothing. Just… I think I finally know which 3racha track we’ll remake on our next CD.”

Woojin just hums in acknowledgement. He knows which track Chan’s referring and it’s… Good. It’s a good choice. Woojin likes it, which is a plus, but he also remembers it is just the right kind of touching and warm to touch human hearts. Their fans will like it.

Chan falls asleep almost instantly. And as Woojin looks at him, curled up in the armchair, he realizes the warmth in his chest is happiness.

Huh. He’s happy.

It’s jarring, shaking the very foundations of his being. It shouldn’t be like that though, right? He’s gotten used to despair, let himself be buried _sorrys_ and _not good enoughs_ , but that’s not what he’s ever been and that’s not what he is now. Here, he is surrounded by 8 boys who are his team, who love him in their own ways and whom he loves back. Here, he is Kim Woojin, the main vocal of Stray Kids.

Maybe this was the right choice, after all.

As unrealistic as it is, Woojin entertains the thought of staying here, in this moment, forever. In a moment when they’re all happy, tucked away from the world and safe in their own little bubble, away from deadlines and schedules. When it’s just them and nothing else matters.

_You can't have forever_ , a voice seems to echo in his mind. It feels ancient, eternal, like _more_ , but Woojin doesn’t care. He’s too tired to, teetering on the edge of dreamland right now and even if that wasn’t the case, he’d still be unable to. He wouldn’t, because there are 8 boys, no, there’s his family, here, right by his side and they’re smiling, happy and _they did it_.

Now, it seems that nothing is impossible. He thinks about the movie he’s just seen, where the characters had been connected in ways that transcended their time and their world and lets himself bask in the warmth radiating from Jeongin’s head in his lap, something he’d never experienced before yet still it so _so_ familiar.

“I know,” Woojin whispers so that he doesn’t wake the others up. “Forever is a long time after all. But I can have now.”

There’s no answer. But Woojin doesn’t need it. He’s asleep in mere seconds, anyway.

* * *

Time doesn’t pass, because the concept of it hasn’t even been invented yet, but moments still happen. 

The planets change. The Moon doesn't know, because he's still young, still learning, or maybe just too focused on something else so he doesn't notice how fascinated they all are with him. How the planets that used to twirl and dance in their own places of the Universe, keep coming back and back to look at him, to talk with him. They do it so much, it becomes a routine, to go around and round the Sun in almost circles.

A long time later, some creatures will think they do that because of the Sun itself and the Sun will laugh at the irony then. 

Still, it’s good for them, the Sun believes. Somehow, the Moon seems to know from the beginning the right ways to approach them, when to push and when to pull. It’s baffling, because he understands them when they haven’t been able to truly understand themselves, but not in a bad way. It settles something deep in the Sun’s not-bones, a longing it hadn’t noticed before. It fills the empty space after the Earth, who became more and more withdrawn until she completely stopped talking with the others, but it also fills all the cracks and holes it never knew existed.

They are 9. And the Sun doesn’t talk with the Universe as it is too small too unimportant too little to even consider doing it, but this fact feels like a _something_ nonetheless.

They are 9. And they are complete.

The Moon himself… He is the son of the Earth, with his kindness and selflessness but he's also more. He's neither a planet with their strength, nor a star with their brightness, nor stardust with its curiosity. He is none of them but at the same time all of them, a weird amalgamation connecting qualities that no other child of the Universe ever had.

Because while he has Earth’s compassion and her yearning for more, he also has the determination to _demand_. To ask the Universe questions and he has a seed of anger that grows every time he receives just silence in return.

Saturn says that once, that the Moon is something more and something less and the Sun can't help but think that it agrees. He's everything but at the same time nothing because he's the first child of the Universe to look out into the abyss and ask who am I?

The Universe stays silent.

In the meantime, the Sun teaches the Moon everything it knows. It’s fine in the beginning, because the Sun is still able to answer his questions, before they become too complicated too hard too much, before the Moon realizes that and stops asking the Sun at all.

“What is that star doing?” the Moon asks once, when they’re looking across the Universe together.

There’s a white blur on the black canvas of the Universe, a trail of light marking the path of the star. The Sun falls silent for a moment, celebrating a life of its’ sibling before it moves on to answer.

“Travelling. Stars do that sometimes, when they no longer want to stay in the same place.”

The Moon is silent for a moment, before he speaks again. “It looks like she’s… falling.”

The Sun doesn’t answer. That star isn’t falling, because this is always their choice, their direction, their fate, but maybe the Moon is indeed something _more_ , because there’s a note of sadness in his tone none of the planets ever had when they first learned about this ritual of stars.

Travelling is the last thing stars can do, because while they know instinctively how to go, they don’t know how to stop. Once they start moving, they forget everything and the only feeling that’s left is pure euphoria. And then, they go out.

The Sun knows that because it is a star as well.

“Will you?” the Moon asks many conversations later and the Sun isn’t sure what he’s talking about so it asks him to elaborate.

A silence befalls them. The Moon is looking at the Sun with a look of something it can’t name in his not-eyes. It doesn’t know what it means, but this moment feels important so the Sun concentrates fully on the other. “Will you _travel_ one day?”

Oh. So that’s what he wants to know.

The Universe is eternal and though Its’ children like to think they’re the same, they know better. There’s a knowledge, deep-rooted in their not-bones, with which they are born that there is a moment for everything. A moment to be and a moment to not-be.

The stars still call it a choice, because that’s how they define it. If you feel leaving is right, you leave. It’s as simple as that.

And the Sun could. It’s only its’ choice, to go or to stay. It has a nice ring to it as well, the _falling_ the Moon has mentioned. Tempting even, if you put it like that. The stars never call it as such but if it looked at it from the Moon’s perspective… Then maybe falling seemed right.

But. There’s only one option, as far as the Sun is concerned.

“No,” the Sun says, gazes at the white trail turning into nothing, at an euphoria turning into the abyss. Then, it adds quietly, so quietly that it probably doesn’t even reach Mercury. “I wouldn’t be able to leave you.”

And the Moon falls silent, but for once, he doesn’t turn away to look into the far away corners of the Universe, just keeps looking at the Sun. There’s something warmer than usual in his glow, a tendril of _thank you_ , maybe. The Sun isn’t sure, because he's neither a planet nor a star and it has trouble understanding him sometimes. Still, it just makes its’ light a bit stronger for a moment, hoping it will convey everything the Sun doesn’t know how to express in words.

Warmth and light is all it knows how to give.

When the Sun had been not lonely with-Moon longer than without, the Moon draws its attention to the Earth.

“Look,” he says, and his tone is one the Sun has never heard before, even though by then it thought it knew the Moon the best. “They call themselves the human race.”

“They call themselves?” the Sun asks. It has been here long enough to watch thousands of new creatures emerge and die on Earth, who nurtures them with eternal patience and something more in her not-eyes, even though their lives are nothing compared to theirs. Even though they all die anyways and every single time she cries and weeps as the other members of their family try to calm her. They don't understand why, but they still want to help.

The Sun had never heard of such creatures calling themselves something. The Moon stays turned away so he doesn't notice the way the Sun's rays dim a little as it looks at his not-back.

_Are they like us?_

It thinks but doesn't say _Am I not enough for you, anymore?_

“Yes,” the Moon answers. The Sun can't help but wonder if he's answering to more than just one question. “They’re self-aware. Isn’t it amazing?” When the Moon turns back, he seems brighter than ever.

Brighter than he’d ever been when he talked with the Sun.

* * *

Woojin tends to wake up early. Maybe it’s the knowledge that humans rise at dawn, maybe it’s something left from _before_ , he doesn’t know. What he does know is that from time to time, if he’s lucky enough, he’ll sit by the window in their living room to watch the sunrise with a cup of tea in hand and the front door will click, before a warm body will settle tiredly across from him.

Chan likes working at night, says he always feels more alive then. Woojin doesn’t doubt it, doesn’t question, because he knows better than anyone that Chan has always burnt the brightest in the darkness.

He usually comes home before dusk, his eyelids drooping and his feet dragging across the floor. Woojin selfishly likes meeting him like this – this Chan is the softest Chan, his edges rounded and smoothed by exhaustion. This is Chan’s essence laid bare, his thoughts and fears unrestrained for the world to see because tiredness leads to vulnerability and to putting all his walls down. It's beautiful in that tragic, heart-breaking kind of way, that you can do nothing more than admire, be thankful that you got to see it and maybe offer a cup of warm jasmine tea every once in a while.

After all, what can you tell someone who’s sacrificing his health to do something he cannot live without?

Humans always liked that concept, right? Dying for love. They've always been drawn to it, told stories of people who offered themselves to save a loved one, sang praises for sacrifice. Woojin can't help but think that dying for something like that is easy. It's living that's hard and the strength it takes to survive each day he can see in Chan is humbling.

“There’s a new song I’m writing,” Chan breaks the silence one night when they're sitting and observing the night sky. They don't usually talk like this, but it's also not rare enough for it to be worrying when Chan speaks. It simply tells Woojin that he has something to say to him. And Woojin will listen, the way he always had.

“What’s it about?” he asks after taking another gulp of his already lukewarm tea. The stars keep blinking in the night sky that will soon dawn, talking in a language humans don’t know and Woojin tears his gaze away from them to look at Chan.

“Thinking too much. Wanting to become a star.”

Woojin’s breath hitches at the words, but he’s pretty sure Chan doesn’t notice, his senses and observation skills dulled by exhaustion. Still, the other turns to look at him and as their gazes meet, Woojin freezes. Chan’s eyes look silver in the moonlight and Woojin can't look away, too entranced by the sight, because it reminds him too much of the things that used to be.

“We can’t all become stars though,” Woojin whispers, but the way he phrases it makes it sound less like a statement, his voice trailing off uncertainly. He usually doesn't let himself do that, because he knows better than to hope that Chan will understand what he means.

Still. Tonight, he asks the question not explicitly with words but with his gaze, with the tilt of his head. Woojin shouldn't but he can't help himself, because he can see a rare glimmer of _something_ in Chan's eyes. Something more.

Of something that feels painfully like home.

Woojin blinks and the spell seems to break. Chan turns back to look at the sky. Woojin lets him go, forcing down the _whys_ and _pleases_ that threaten to erupt from his lips.

“Sometimes…” Chan swallows. “Sometimes, at night, I feel like the stars are watching me. Like they’re sentient beings, like us, who live and observe us in their own ways. Like they're singing something to me, wanting to tell me something very important, remind me of something crucial I've forgotten but I can never understand them, no matter how hard I try."

Woojin just hums at that because the stars are fickle eternal beings. They don't understand love and Woojin is supposedly human but he doesn't understand it either. But they are possessive, in a different way than humans, because it’s not selfish or destructive, just a tendency to divide the Universe into mine and not-mine.

Even if they don't call it love, they can still miss their family.

“Would you like to be a star?" Woojin asks after a moment, because he's decided not to be afraid of asking these questions anymore. The kind of questions where he sort of doesn't want to know the answer, but at the same time does. It’s a bravery he learned from… being here. Being a member of Stray Kids and seeing the others practice sweat cry for their dream, watching them fight against the Universe even when everyone told them it was futile.

A long beat of silence. Then-

“I think I’d fall. I like being human too much. Wouldn’t it be boring, just sitting and watching time pass by doing nothing? They don’t have music there, right?” Chan chuckles at his own joke and shakes his head and Woojin just watches. Thinks about the stars’ songs, about the stardust’s dance, about the planets twirling to a melody humans will never hear. Thinks _oh, but we do._

Chan turns back to him and in the moonlight his hair looks ethereal, like it's glowing. This, combined with the sheepish smile is so achingly familiar, Woojin has to look away, focusing his gaze on the cup in his hands. His fingers are trembling. "Sorry. I’m not making any sense, am I?” Chan says.

Woojin swallows back the questions and the regret Chan’s words bring and concentrates on stilling his fingers. He’s not as afraid as before, but there are topics he knows better than to breach. He’d never get an answer anyway.

“No, I think I get it,” Woojin responds instead as he looks back at the blinking stars in the night sky, means _I know what falling feels like_.

And he doesn’t say it, but means _you do too_.

Sometimes it’s hard, to be human when you remember being _more_ , when you can still hear the stars sing at night and know 8 boys better than you should. Woojin looks at Chan now, his slumped silhouette on their windowsill and realizes that being human is hard even if you don’t have any of that.

Being human is a lot harder than being a star, it seems.

In the background, the stars keep singing _the price for a fall is memories, so how can you remember?_

Woojin looks at them, a man, a boy really, one out of many billions, but he knows they can see him and thinks _how could I ever forget?_

* * *

The Sun doesn’t learn the word for love for a very long time. It’s the Moon that uses it one time during their conversation, leaving the Sun confused about what he means.

“Love?” it asks when it becomes apparent the Moon isn’t planning to elaborate. There’s a moment of confusion before the Moon’s gaze softens in understanding.

“It’s a human word,” the Moon answers, turning to look at the Earth. Recently he’s been looking at her more and more often, spending his moments on watching human lives flicker in and out of existence. He’s observing them in the same way the Earth used to gaze across the Universe, not-eyes focused and seeking something.

The Sun wonders what he’s looking for. It still doesn’t have the courage to ask.

“What does it mean?” it asks a different question instead. The Moon likes talking about humans and their weird inventions and coinages. The Sun has heard enough from him to know they have a need to name and understand every single thing they encounter on their way.

The Sun… doesn’t understand it. Some things are and some things are not, just like the Universe exists. It is was _will be_ , and no human term can change this fact. So why even try to comprehend it?

But the Moon is still fascinated with humans and their lives, so the Sun just chooses to listen whenever they spend their moments together. It is the opposite from what was before – the Moon has turned from a student to a teacher. Yet, it isn’t _wrong_ , because the Sun has always been a listener.

Nothing is wrong, not when it’s the Moon.

“They use it to… To talk about things they hold dear. That make their hearts beat faster, their breaths speed up and their pupils dilate.”

The Sun is a part of the Universe, so it doesn’t have a body that is alive by the standards those earthly creatures had set. Maybe that’s why it finds them hard to understand. They think so much of themselves while they know so little and that arrogance will never let them learn more. How can they think they are the centre of the Universe?

The Universe doesn’t have a centre, just like It lacks a beginning or an end. It simply… _is_

The Moon continues. “They can love objects, but also other humans. Lovers, spouses. Families.”

They should stop talking about it, because there’s an unfamiliar glow in the Moon’s not-eyes that makes the Sun uneasy. Still, there’s something about the last word that calls sings in such a familiar way, the Sun has to ask. “Families?”

“Families are… People connected by blood ties, but sometimes they don’t have to be. Your family is other humans that make you feel at home, they say. Safe. Warm.”

The Sun nods its not-head, although the reasons behind the creatures’ actions are still a mystery to it. It guesses it will never be able to understand those humans the Moon is so enamoured with. But…

_Warmth_.

That’s something the Sun knows. It is what all the stars give whenever they want to. A way to touch other children of the Universe, a proof that they are. And if warmth means family means love, then wouldn’t that mean-

"What a weird concept. Love,” the Moon says, breaking the Sun’s train of thought. Then, he adds quietly “I wonder what loving something would feel like."

The Sun hums in agreement, and as the Moon turns back to the Earth once more, it looks out into the Universe and recalls how the 7 planets laugh whenever they come to visit, how they seem lighter when the Sun’s rays reach their not-skin. It thinks to itself _it is truly a weird thing, this love._

Means _I think I know._

Maybe even _Don't you?_

* * *

They win.

And it’s not their first award, so maybe it shouldn’t feel so paramount, but it does because they never won something like this. All the rookie awards were theirs, but they were just as much the company’s, the staff’s, the management’s. They had been a result of good planning as much as their own hard work, and everyone sort of expected they’d get at least a couple of them.

But this. This is them. Their thoughts put into words with a 3RACHA melody with their voices singing them out. Hoping for the Universe and everyone living in it to listen.

It is their song.

Their producing trio are the ones that are crying the hardest now and for once watching the tears streaming down his members’ faces doesn’t cause Woojin pain. This is their happiness, all their _thank yous_ and _we’re finally heres_ given physical form, all their unspoken words for the whole word to see. Sobbing and sniffling and stumbling over their words – they’re beautiful.

Chan, who is trying very hard not to fall apart during his speech, looks ethereal.

But, in the end, Woojin is as he'd always been in every life, every time and place - watching the other 8 silently, smiling at their happiness but never touching. This is his default, it seems, the fate the Universe has written for him. _You will chase after them, but they will never be yours to touch_. Always a step behind, a foot below, lightyears away. Even here, standing on the same stage as them, he just can’t.

He steals a few touches here and there during Chan's speech and later, the encore. A pat on Jeongin's heand, a hand on Chan's shoulder, a half hug with Jisung. They're brief, barely there, fleeting gestures because Woojin is afraid to do more. The pride and the happiness inside him are a too-familiar warmth in his chest. He knows it's against logic, but he can't help but feel like the bright tendrils of light he can almost feel under his skin will transfer onto anything he touches, and they'll burn it with their strength, because he can’t remember ever being this happy.

He’s the happiest he’s ever been, because his family is the happiest they’ve ever been. It’s that simple.

So instead, he talks and waves to their Stays while at the same time trying to give his members strength just by being there. No words can accurately convey how grateful the group is for Stays, because it's their fans who made this whole thing possible, so he just smiles at them hoping they’ll understand.

4419, Woojin suddenly remembers and his smile widens even more. It's like destiny. Jisung would say that it's like the Universe is trying to tell them something, but Woojin doesn't think so. The Universe doesn't try to tell you anything - It just exists. It doesn't give answers to those who ask, never bothered to respond to the Moon's pleading cries, so why would it try to say something to them. Especially now.

But it’s still special. 4419

Cause it’s the song where- Right? Right.

_I still remember the first day I saw you, when our heights were the same. We were the same age, so we got close, I’m sure our hearts wanted to go together to the end._

And Woojin knows that Chan’s words there are not meant for him, but for Bambam, but he can still pretend. And Jisung always says that’s the beauty of making music – they’re writing music about their own experiences, yet still, those words can touch others, make them recall their own experiences.

Songs are this kind of magic, it seems. And now their Miroh, a piece of the Universe they crafted with their blood, sweat and tears has touched people’s hearts and _won_.

In 4419 Woojin sings about stopping time and now he wishes he could do that. Just freeze the moment forever so that their happiness wouldn't ever end. So that they’d stay here, on this small stage with confetti in their hair, bright light in their eyes and lungs full of _we did it, we finally did it-_

The joy is almost overwhelming. It's a bit like- he's floating. Not flying because he's never known that feeling, but still, like he's not bound by gravity anymore. Like if he were to walk out of the building, he'd start rising up and up, because there's nothing holding him here anymore besides his desire to stay with his family.

He’s an incongruity, falling apart at the seams right now, because he’s never been something physical before. Humans say stars are made of gas, of white-hot hydrogen and helium, but that’s not right and that’s not how it feels. When you’re a star, all you know about yourself is that you are warmth and you are light and you are different from the other children of the Universe. You can never touch another being, but you can send them your very essence, wrap the ones you love in tendrils of pure feelings and warm them with them.

Being a star is a lot like singing.

The stars in the sky are quiet for once. Woojin can feel their gazes on them, as after everything, the group makes their way home in festive moods. They don't understand why they're happy, the human feelings lost on their eternity, but they respect them and for them this means a moment of silence. Even here, even when they’re 9 mere humans on Earth's crust the stars still consider them family.

"Hyung?" comes from Woojin's right. Felix is sitting in the seat next to him, his eyes wide and makeup removed. Woojin wonders if the freckles on Felix's cheeks would feel like stardust if he were to touch them.

“Yes, Lix?” he answers, his voice barely a whisper. He’s not behaving like usual and of course it’s Felix who notices that. He’s always been too observant for his own good at times like these.

"Is something wrong?"

  
  


And is it? In truth, nothing is wrong. It's also not _right_ because Woojin is where he never should've gone where he was never supposed to end up but the 8 boys just feel so much like family like warmth and happiness Woojin can never stop chasing after them. No matter how much it hurts to do so.

His gaze unconsciously wanders over to Chan who's sitting in the front. He’s turned in his seat to talk with Changbin who is in the seat behind him. The seatbelt must be digging painfully into his arm, but he seems completely unaware of it, a warm gentle smile on his face. Once again, he feels like an illusion, like if Woojin were to stretch out his arm to touch him, he’d turn into dust and Woojin would find himself back at SM, woken from a short nap of unrealistic dreams, lost and _alone_.

He’s just… too kind, too beautiful, too _Chan_ to be this close to Woojin and be real. Woojin is not enough, will never be enough, will never deserve to have him to himself. It’d be selfish and foolish to even try.

Is something wrong?

Woojin sighs. He remembers too much, is too different, is _more_ and he knows the laws of the Universe enough to realise he won’t ever really belong here. But he’s here, surrounded by his family and he’s never felt more right before.

He sighs again and looks back at Felix to find the boy’s eyes still focused on him. He’s overthinking again. They've just had their first win.

"Of course not, Lix-ah." Woojin reaches out to pull Felix into a half hug and lets the younger boy nuzzle his nose into his neck like a cat. "I'm just happy," he breathes out against Felix’s hair and feels something tickle his throat when he inhales.

Woojin smiles to himself. Stardust.

  
  


And Woojin is. Happy. Maybe even more than happy, because the little ball of light inside his chest is joy but it’s also more.

Still, it’s a weird thing, to remember and it gets hard to hide at times. To know those boys a bit too well, better than he should. To have known from the very beginning with utmost certainty that they would get along, maybe with bumps and turns along the way, but that in the end, they would become a family.

A family like they are now.

It’s a weird thing which is why he tries to keep his distance at times like these. When the memories feel too real and he’s too big too inhuman too _much,_ he runs away but somehow, the dongsaengs always find him and he ends up with a lap full of boys with earnest hearts in the size of celestial bodies.

Over Felix’s head he catches the sight of Changbin. The boy is gesturing widely as he talks to Chan, energetic in that way he always gets when he’s really, really happy. Woojin isn’t listening, but he still hears when Chan giggles, and it’s the sound that reminds him that yes, he’s here, on Earth and not somewhere in space alone in the dark abyss.

Felix puts almost all of his weight on Woojin as he hugs him and a laugh rumbles in his chest at the younger’s actions. Maybe rather than happy, he’s simply grateful. That he has them.

That they let him call them his family.

“We did it, Woojinnie.” Chan smiles at him much later when they’re celebrating in their dorm and his eyes form crescent moons. The comparison shows up in Woojin’s mind involuntarily and he chuckles warmly and grins back. “We did it,” Chan repeats, quieter, weaker but still so unbelievably content Woojin can almost feel the happiness rolling off his skin in waves.

Woojin looks into his eyes and finds that _something_ again. And Woojin really shouldn’t because he’s pretty sure Chan doesn’t remember him, not the way he can remember. In Chan’s mind they’re just two groupmates, idols trying to make it in the harsh industry, so he really shouldn’t really risk everything like this, but the other just feels like _home_ so much at times like these and Woojin has to-

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Chan, do you-“ he starts and tries to catch Chan’s shoulder for support, because he needs a reminder that they’re both here, next to each other and not separated by lightyears of darkness and silent particles, before opening his eyes again.

Woojin’s outstretched hand grasps air, because by then Chan has already turned away and started chasing after a laughing Jisung across their dorm, the younger running through the room with Chan’s plate of chicken in his arms.

Still, even as a human, the Moon stays out of reach.

* * *

The Moon leaves without a word. The Sun looks away for a moment and when it turns back, he’s gone. His body is still there, but it’s just an empty shell of rock. The Sun can tell at first glance that it isn’t _its Moon._

There’s a moment of shock, a murmur of the stars because moons aren’t supposed to fall. They shouldn’t because it's a star's skill, their thing, their destiny and no child of the Universe has ever thought about going against its’ laws before.

The Sun’s Moon had always been unique.

Their whole family seems to be, because after hearing the news, the planets come closer, curious and yearning to go after him. And they do follow him soon enough, because what was unthinkable before, turns out to be actually quite easy once you know how. Each whispers that they’ll be back soon, that they’ll just try to make humans change their minds and be gentler on their sister even though it’s obvious they just want to join the Moon.

The Sun can barely hear them through its' tears.

The Sun burns brighter than ever before because the Sun isn’t governed by human ideas, because it’s existed for a long time before them and will keep existing for a long time after them, because it’s _more_. Its' sorrows roll off its not-body as light with the frequency of despair and they spread across the Universe, touching every being, dead or alive, gently but with a silent wail of pain. Humans won’t know, too stuck inside their heads, inside their lives governed by their own inventions, but other creatures will, and they will cry along when they feel the Sun’s kiss upon their skin.

The Moon left it without a word.

And the Sun doesn't have the Moon's vocabulary, doesn't know the words to describe the feelings swirling inside it. The Sun feels in broken sentences, in _maybes_ and in _sorrys_ and in memories from a time that has just ended.

And it cries because its family is gone, maybe not for forever, but still, for the first time, the Sun tastes the loneliness Earth had mentioned once before. 

It seems like you can only know loneliness if you had more before.

The stars sing lullabies, trying to drown out the Sun’s sobs that sound a lot like _why_? and _please come back_ and even a bit like _I’m sorry I wasn't good enough for you_.

* * *

The group doesn’t understand. Of course they don’t, because they don’t remember. All they know is that they’re a group of 9 boys playing adults, chasing after a dream that feels like starlight and dark matter on their tongues. They write songs about falling stars and about going to space because those words feel right, but they will never understand why, why the night sky always seems to pull at them, whispering sweet nothings and promises of freedom, why their souls seem to know each other even though they cannot recall meeting before entering JYPE.

And the Sun can’t tell them.

Woojin is sorry, regretful and sad, because he never thought it would come to this, that he’d have to leave them. He’s never been governed by time and he never had to understand this very human thing before he fell, because the Sun simply _is_ and now he realizes what a mistake that was. Every fall comes with a price.

He’s human now. And his time is running out.

He ignores the stars' whispers for as long as he can and it's still not enough. He doesn’t think he’ll ever love the human race the way the Moon does, but this short time he spent on Earth had been beautiful in its’ own way. Not more than the songs of the stars or the laughter of particles as they play inside the black holes, not more than the long debates between the planets in a language humans will never grasp but beautiful nonetheless.

Humans have a word for that, Woojin thinks. Ephemeral.

He’s gained an appreciation for human words. He thinks he understands a bit more know, why do they struggle so much trying to understand everything around them. Why they live.

"Stay. For Astronaut, at least. We've already filmed the MV together, I don't understand-" Chan tries to convince him for the hundredth time even though his voice keeps breaking. There's an undercurrent of despair in it that's only accentuated by the exhaustion that's wrapped around his frame, and he's still talking but Woojin can see he already knows it's a lost cause. They've had this conversation too many times already. "Please, just think it over. Give it a few more weeks at least. You don't have to make such rash decisions-"

The problem is, Wojin had thought it over. He contemplated for weeks, months even, prolonged his decision for as long as he could but no matter how hard he tries to convince himself otherwise, he knows there's only one answer.

He'd love to stay here forever. He loved getting to talk and play around, touch in a way he never got the chance to before and he’d been so _so_ happy.

Chan keeps talking, but Woojin can't hear him anymore, the stars getting louder by the second with the nightfall until their voices fill his ears completely. But just looking at him is enough, because Chan's eyes remind him of abyss and the Universe. From his creation, the Moon has always asked for the impossible, always wanted more than the Universe was willing to give him, and he's still doing it now.

_Stay_ , Chan's gaze pleads every time their eyes meet. _Stay with us_. _With me_.

Woojin almost finds it funny, because he'd asked and cried for the very same thing at a different time and different pace.

And the Sun can do a lot of things but it cannot _stay_.

Woojin can't, because he remembers. And there are bigger things than him and even the Sun can’t do whatever it wants so he finally succumbs to the screaming of stars he hears all the time nowadays. _Leave, you must leave and come back to us_ , their once pleasant song turned into a shrill noise that doesn’t let him sleep at night.

He truly thought he had more time. Until the end of the year at least. It's too early and the group and their company will have so many problems trying to delete a trace of him from their next CD no human words can describe how sorry for that Woojin feels. Had he predicted he'd have to leave, he wouldn't choose such a bad time and just quit earlier. Early enough that Astronaut would be a song for 8 since the beginning.

It’s poetic, still. That the first song Stray Kids will have to sing without him is about travelling to the very place he must leave them for.

Because unlike the planets and unlike the Moon, in the end the Sun is simply a star. And stars are the best at falling, as humans all know, except it always ends in their death. And the Sun cannot go out, cannot let itself stay even if it hurts the others and even if they’ll never forgive it for leaving.

If it does what it wants, its light will disappear, and all the life in this Universe along with it.

And the stars and planets would still be there, would still survive in the darkness until the birth of another big star to take care of them, but the humans wouldn't. While the Sun doesn't really care about them, the Moon does. He loves this small, imperfect world with all of his being and Woojin wouldn’t forgive himself if he endangered that.

Woojin would give anything and everything for him. Which is why he must leave now.

And oh, how Woojin wants to stay. There’s so many things he has yet to do, to experience.

He can’t.

“I have to go,” Woojin tells Chan and hoists his bag onto his shoulder. It’s the last of his belongings, the rest already sent to his parents’ home. They’re alone in their dorm’s hallway, the kids giving them a moment of privacy after they shared their goodbyes just moments before. Chan’s hair is dark again after such a long time and it reminds Woojin of their first meeting, when their gazes met and he immediately knew he’d found his Moon.

There’s a moment of silence before-

A warmth, enveloping him suddenly. A smell he knows too well and hard muscle and soft skin underneath his fingertips as arms circle his waist.

They’ve hugged before, but this… This feels different.

“You still smell like home,” Chan’s voice is wet and the strength with which he’s embracing him is almost too much, almost makes the hug painful. But Woojin just closes his eyes, breathes in and lets the other do whatever he wants. He doesn’t ask what Chan means by that, because the answer would be too much to bear. He thinks he understands, anyway. “I’ll miss you,” Chan whispers.

The Sun memorizes this moment, memorizes how the Moon feels in its arms. That is all it can do.

“I’ll always be watching you, Channie. All of you. Just don’t forget about me, okay?”

It’s the only plea he allows himself and it has a bitter aftertaste of regret, because Chan still doesn’t know, still doesn’t remember the Sun the way it _he_ wants him to remember. But if he just remembers Woojin, the chicken-loving boy from Incheon who sang like he breathed and loved his family with all his heart and more- It will be enough. The Sun doesn’t need anything more.

Chan’s face is buried in his chest, but they’re close enough Woojin can hear every word clearly. “Of course I’ll remember you. And… We’ll meet again one day, right?”

Woojin smiles, even though he knows Chan cannot see it.

“Right.”

After the Moon left, the Sun had cried all of its’ tears and it decided to be selfish for once. It decided to follow. And even if that decision was tainted by despair and pain, it had been the right choice. Woojin is sure of that.

The Sun must leave now. But it will wait, until the planets come home.

Until the Moon comes back, it’ll wait patiently.


	2. note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> about what happened recently

So. Uhm...

This was supposed to be the "save this if you liked it because I'm deleting it" kind of note and I wrote it in ten different ways and I still cannot send it. In my other fics I will either try to edit him out or at least change his name, but here... It wouldn't work, you know? Not with this many details. Which is why I have to delet-

No. I won't. I can't. Because even though it may not seem like it, I worked so freaking hard for this story. Hours upon hours over months, that I spent on adding, deleting, editing and polishing until I finally published it. I was so happy when I finished it. So happy. If there's one thing I ever wrote that I'm proud of, it's this. And that's funny in a way, because I don't keep copies of the stories I publish here. Once it's on ao3, I delete it, so this is probably the only copy of this story in the whole world.

I apologize, if anyone wanted to hear something else from me. I'm angry and disappointed and _so fucking angry_ at him. But I don't want to let him take that old feeling of accomplishment away from me. And I'll ve forever grateful to people who liked this story, because they made it the first time I felt happy because of something I wrote.

I'm leaving this here unchanged as a warning - oh, how easily we can be fooled into loving someone. Into trusting someone. I don't think I'll forget it for some time, but if I ever come back here, this will remind me.

So, this is my final "fuck you, Kim Woojin". You destroyed so many things, but I won't let you destroy this. This story was a thank you and all I can say now is - thanks for reminding me how shitty humans can be. To think I used to love you.

Sorry for ranting. Bye!

**Author's Note:**

> So… This took forever to write. Maybe not to write specifically, but to polish it so that it would have the mood I wanted it to have. Which was a lot harder than I expected and I’m not completely satisfied, but I don’t hate it. Hope you enjoyed it, I guess.
> 
> I was inspired by a lot of things – Cloud Atlas (which is the movie they watched that one time, if you were curious about that), exurb1a’s Upsilon dies backwards and his book, the Fifth Science to name a few. I recommend them with all my heart, so you can check them out if you wish. I also was inspired by a story I once read which was a fanfiction as well, but for the life of me I cannot recall what it was called or find it again. So, if this reminds you of something, please let me know. I don’t really remember it well, so I can only hope I didn’t subconsciously copy someone else’s story, but I do remember I loved how ephemeral and pretty the writing felt, so I tried emulating it here.
> 
> Oh and one small thing you may be wondering about – the Sun doesn’t have gender like the planets or the Moon simply because we are seeing the story from its point of view. It learns the sexes from talking with them about each other, but they only ever address is as ‘you’, so it never finds out and it doesn’t feel the need to ask.
> 
> Thank you for reading. For me it’s enough to know that someone has read what I wrote, but I also want to say how grateful I am for your kudos and bookmarks. And reviews. Those mean more than I can express.


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